Did the Cowbell Kid hurt the Rays?

Normally, I like the Cowbell Kid. He is the ultimate cheerleader. He has excited Rays fans for many moons with his eccentric personality, his wild hair-dos, and his persistent cowbell banging. He is an icon among Rays fans.

Lately, however, the Cowbell Kid has worn out his usefulness to the Rays. As a matter of fact, I would go so far as to say he was a burden to the Rays' success this postseason. Perhaps, just maybe, the Cowbell Kid did more harm than good.

On October 20, the Cowbell Kid made his first World Series video. For nearly four minutes the Cowbell Kid talked his drivel about how great the Rays were and how the World Series was just a "formality" after the Rays beat the Red Sox in the ALCS. He then predicted the Rays would win the Series in 5. Unfortunately for Rays fans, the opposite was true. Strike 1, Cowbell Kid.

On October 24, the Cowbell Kid made a video of himself on the toilet, spewing trash talk about the Philadelphia Phillies. In this video, which has since been removed from YouTube, the Cowbell Kid made fun of Phillies slugger Ryan Howard, who at that point had not hit a home run during the postseason. After the Cowbell Kid's video, Howard hit three home runs against the Rays, including two in Game 4 of the World Series. If there was ever an example of letting a sleeping dog lie, that was it. Strike 2, Cowbell Kid.

Lastly, on November 2, the Cowbell Kid showed up on yet another video, this time ridiculing Phillie fans and linking them all to all social disturbances that occurred the night the Phillies won the World Series. Another poor showing. In this video, the Cowbell Kid proclaims that he is glad the Rays lost, so the world can see that all Phillie fans are horrible, "homeless, soup-kitchen dwellers". I am going to go out on a limb and say that is not true. This blog has been linked to by sites of Phillie fans, who might I add, happened to be pretty cool people. Strike 3, Cowbell Kid.

By making videos like this, The Cowbell Kid is showing the worst of Rays fans. As the video ambassador to the Rays, he is displaying Rays fans as classless, arrogant, and sore losers. For an organization that had enough negativity surrounding it for the first 10 years of its existence, the Rays don't need the Cowbell Kid undoing all their positive work. Here's hoping 2009 brings a more mellow and more mature Cowbell Kid. One who doesn't provide the opposition and their fans bulletin board material.

Tropicana is where I lost my heart

"I'm not much for inspirational addresses. I just wanta point out that every newspaper in the country has picked us to finish last. The local press thinks we'd save everybody a lot of time and trouble if we just went out and shot ourselves. Me, I like to waste sportswriters' time so I'm for hangin' around and seein' if we can give all these guys a nice big shitburger to eat."

- Lou Brown, Manager, Cleveland Indians - Major League (1989)

For some reason I imagine the Tampa Bay Rays' 2008 season began with a similar quote. The Rays, as most know, were picked to finish if not last, barely above the Baltimore Orioles in the AL East. It seemed only Baseball Prospectus thought highly of them, picking them to finish somewhere in the 83 to 88-win range. I, personally, was a little less optimistic. I hoped for 81 wins, a .500 record.

But a funny thing happened on the way to October. To say I was pleasantly surprised by the 2008 Rays is an understatement. To say every fan I talked to was surprised would also be an understatement. Every new fan, every old fan. Everyone was shocked.

While this season has definitely been one for the ages for the Rays' franchise, it has also meant a lot to me personally. Never before have I been so vested in a team. Never before was I so into every game - every pitch, every at bat, and every run. Never before have I been so involved. Maybe it was because the team seemed to want me as a fan, allowing fans to chat with both of the Rays' General Managers. Maybe it was because I had a some money this year and could afford to go to Tropicana Field quite often, nearly 20-25 times, including the postseason. However, I probably watched or listened to nearly 100 other games. Again, hanging on every pitch and cheering every one.

When I was nine, I followed every game of the '86 Mets, following as close as a 9-year old could. But it didn't feel like this. When I was in my late 20s in 2003, I had a college roommate who was a huge Marlins fan (yes, they do exist). We watched as many games of that season as we could in sports bars, cheering and drinking our way through the Marlins postseason. But that didn't feel like this either.

As many of my regular readers know, I have struggled with rooting for the Rays, penning numerous blogs disguised as love letters to my "long-distance love" a.k.a. the Mets. At first, I would say my interest in the Rays was strictly geographic. They are the local team, and I only live 30 minutes from the ballpark. I would have gone even if the team played poorly, as I did in 2007.

But after hearing Rays radio host Rich Herrera nearly choke up while closing the season broadcast, I've come to the conclusion that I am definitely a Rays fan. In his final broadcast, an emotional Herrera talked about how special the 2008 Rays were to him and thanked everyone involved with the team, from the players to the front office to the fans, both new and old, for giving us a magical 2008 baseball season.

I too would like to extend my thanks, although mine are a bit more personal.

I'd like to say thank you to the Tropicana Field ushers I often talked baseball with, and to the hardcore fans I saw in April and May (who were there probably long before that) who lead the cheers as the team got better, specifically those around my seat: the fans above home plate who chanted "left-right, left-right, sit down!" when an opponent struck out and the elderly gentleman who yelled "1 down, 26 more to go" after a Rays pitcher recorded the first out of the game.

Thanks also to the writers of Rays Index and DRays Bay for providing daily Rays-centric sports blogosphere insight, and most importantly, to the co-worker who was kind enough to let me buy some of his season tickets last December. Everyone listed, along with the aforementioned players, fans, announcers, and Rays employees, helped ignite a baseball passion in me that I hadn't felt in a long time.

This 2008 season might be the Rays' equivalent to the 1969 Mets, it may be a watershed year that creates an explosion of loyal, committed, die-hard fans. It may be the Rays' version of 1991, the year the Braves lost the World Series, but began a decade of division dominance. Or, as unlikely as it could be, the Rays could be a flash in the pan, the second coming of the 2007 Colorado Rockies. Next year, the Red Sox and Yankees could decide enough is enough, open up the coffers, and buy themselves another World Championship.

Whatever happens, however, I know that even though I have been a Mets fan for over 20 years and that will never change, I am proud to also call myself a fan of the Tampa Bay Rays.

(Yes, the title of this post is a line from Motley Crue's "Girls, Girls, Girls" [at the 3:05 mark of the video]. According to Google, no one has ever used that line in a Rays' post before.)

Eulogies for the Eliminated

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today not to praise the departed, but to bury them. For they are the meek that shall inherit golf courses, while those who remain strive for glory. They are the eliminated, the condemned. They are those whose bright summer seasons have grown dark and sickly like the colored leaves of fall. They are those who are left to play out the season, settling only for the bittersweet hope of playing "spoiler".

For today we are beginning to bury all those who no longer have a chance of making the Major League Baseball playoffs. For these teams there is no October Quest, no championship run, no dreams of ticker tape and champagne showers. Only the cold, dark, dismal reality of another season failed.

Dear Great Creator Doubleday, please take the souls of the 2008 Seattle Mariners, Washington Nationals, Pittsburgh Pirates, San Diego Padres, Oakland A's, Cincinnati Reds, and Baltimore Orioles into your loving bosom. They were among the first eliminated this season, and all are now over 20 games out of first place.

We apologize, Great Creator, for this mass burial. But we unfortunately had not thought to bury them sooner, although there was little doubt of their demise. (On a positive note, however, we did a great deal on this corner plot.)

Beloved, please bow your heads as I say a brief word about each of the deceased.

2008 Seattle Mariners: Unfortunately, you threw all your eggs into the basket of a false god. Erik Bedard was not the answer, unless the question was "what was one of the most overhyped trades of last offseason?" Yet you gave up the farm, while you still counted on Richie Sexson. May you rest in peace.

2008 Washington Nationals: In a town of dissension, you were to be our rock. A stable guiding light that people from both sides could rally around. Yet you represented our nation with the weakest fighting force since Valley Forge. May you rest in peace.

2008 San Diego Padres: You counted on one of the most overrated pitchers in baseball to carry you to the promise land. If not for Adrian Gonzalez, you might be finishing in the California Penal League. The charge: impersonating the proud former team of Tony Gwynn. May you rest in peace.

2008 Oakland A's: Two pitchers with sub-1.00 ERAs and you are over 20 games out? Your demise speaks more to the strength of the Angels that you could not fly with, than your own personal vices. Even the sheer power of Thunder Matt could not save your season. May you rest in peace.

2008 Cincinnati Reds: You tempted fates by using Belisle Belial. Although the wicked communists of the Soviet Union have seemingly returned, you have yet to give us a Red Scare worth waking up for. Although Jay Bruce may save you soon, may you rest in peace.

2008 Baltimore Orioles: Another team full of promise, you failed to stockpile talent and follow the footprint of your divisional sister, the Tampa Bay Rays. Until you treat Camden Yards like the hallowed grounds that it is, the Great Creator will continue to smite you. However, because I am generous, may you rest in peace.

2008 Pittsburgh Pirates: 16 years of continuous futility? Forget a proper burial, you suck. May your rotting corpse end up in the belly of the Sarlacc, and may you find a new definition of pain and suffering as you are slowly digested over a thousand years.

Talking Rays At-Bat Music

Last year, I attended a focus group meeting for (then Devil) Rays fans at Tropicana Field and I voiced my opinion on one particular issue: I wanted to know what song was playing as each individual player stepped to the plate. I suggested that it would be a good idea if this information was broadcast somewhere on the scoreboard. As this year has progressed, and as I have gone to approximately 20 home games at Tropicana Field, I have again wondered the same thing I thought about last year: what songs were playing?

Although I have noticed a few titles and some singer/band info being displayed, especially during the last few weeks, thanks to the MLB Entertainment website (via DRays Bay), I finally have my answers.

A few notes on the Rays at-bat music info:

- The page lists Evan Longoria's music as Pantera's "I'm Broken". While that was his music after the all-star break, he began the season with Tantric's "Down and Out".

- Of all the songs in English, the one I can least understand is Willy Aybar's entrance music, T-Pain and Flo Rida's "Low". I think the song goes something like "the belly-saggin' jeans and Reebok-twirling shoes" and then "she got low, low, low, low, low". The rest I have no idea. This song makes me feel old. I saw kids no older than eight singing along to it, while I stood there baffled.

- I'm pretty sure Edwin Jackson's music is not "Track 12" by Unknown. I don't think a musical artist would go by the name "Unknown". Then again, maybe they do and I am just old.

- Also in the category of "people who changed songs during the season", I think Troy Percival began the season coming in to Audioslave's "Chocise" before settling on Godsmack. Usually Godsmack oozes confidence and bad-assness, but not when Percival takes the mound. I've never been more nervous during "Keep Away".

- I know B.J. Upton has come up to the plate to more than just Lil Wayne's "Lollipop", but I have no clue what his other songs were.

- How cool is it that two Rays come to the plate to Pantera, both the aforementioned Longoria and Eric Hinske, who after his first at-bat comes to the plate to "Walk"? Both "Walk" and "I'm Broken" sound kick-ass echoing through the stadium. I also think the PA guys crank those songs up a little louder than they do some of the rap songs. But maybe I am just biased.

- Hinske's opening tunes also remind me of an opportunity lost. Why didn't anyone form a group in the stands called "Hinske's Headbangers"?

- Speaking of fan groups, and time is not yet lost on this one, what about the "Longo-holics" for fans of Longoria? Count me in as the first Longoholic. I might have to start making t-shirts.

A scientific categorization of the inhabitants of Tropicana Field

Greetings, I am not a scientist, I am just attempting to write like one.

In the last year I have been witness to a new type of species dwelling in the area of St. Petersburg, Florida. Although many deny their existence or claim they do not reveal themselves often enough for believability, I have seen them too often to think that they are not real. Through dozens of visits to the area and tireless observation, I have decided to take on the responsibility of document this new phenomenon for scientific prosperity.

The sun bears down on Tropicana Field, yet inside the 18-year old establishment the temperature is a cool, constant 72 degrees. A baseball field lay in the middle of the building and although some would say that is where the action is, my observations tell a far different story. It is in the stands surrounding the baseball field where these new, exciting, boisterous, charasmatic creatures dwell.

From my perch in the upper deck I can see most of the stadium. The only area outside my view is a small area beneath me, an area marked by announce booths and luxury boxes - hardly the subjects of study. More often than not I am surrounded by the beasts. They consume me and smother me with sounds of cowbells and voices. Led by a fuzzy whatchamacallit named Raymond, they call themselves "Rays' Fans" and have outshouted or drowned out every invading voice in Tropicana Field this year.

First, allow me to introduce "Cowbellicus Loudicus Fanicus". A staple at Tropicana Field, Cowbellicus has perhaps the loudest cowbell in the habitat. Combined with his flamboyant looks and optimistic demeanor, Cowbellicus Loudicus Fanicus is unmistakable. Despite the somewhat aggressive nature seen in the above picture, Cowbellicus Loudicus Fanicus is not considered dangerous. As long as you wear earplugs.

This species here is "Confidenticus Fanicus". New to Tropicana Field, Confidenticus Fanicus has faith were faith did not exist before. He cheers when things go right, and curses the visiting team when things go wrong. Although most Confidenticus Fanicus are fun-loving creatures, some do try to provoke alien species with derogatory chants and comments. When visitors to Confidenticus Fanicus's habitat attempt to respond, Fanicus usually replies with the phrase "Look at the standings."

Here you see a few examples of "Hotchickitus Rays Fanicus". Although Hotchickitus inhabited Tropicana Field before 2008, never before has the species been seen in such large numbers.

Here you can see "Exciticus Young Fanicus". The most new of new species to Tropicana Field, Exciticus Young Fanicus carries with it the hopes and dreams of a new generation. A generation that did not have to suffer through the Vince Namoli-era or have their eyes burnt watching Dewon Brazelton. This is the future.

This study inspired by Deadspin.com.

The Return of Thunder

When the Oakland A's traded pitcher Rich Harden, I did not think it would affect me in the least. I'm neutral on Harden and the Rays had already finished playing their season series against the Cubs. So although some people got excited, the latest baseball mega-blockbuster barely nudged my care meter.

How completely foolish of me.

Little did I realize that because of this trade I could once again be privy to greatness. Once again I had the opportunity to witness the awesome presence that is Thunder Matt Murton as his new team, the Oakland A's, visited beautiful Tropicana Field.

When I first saw his name in the lineup, I was pleasantly surprised. No longer denied by the oppressive Cubs organization, Thunder Matt not only started in left field for the A's, but he also batted clean-up, arguably the most important of all lineup positions.

And so it is with great honor that I may testify to my readers an eyewitness report of the July 22nd happenings of Thunder Matt Murton. Consider this, if you will, the hadith of the Redheaded Messiah.

1st AB: He struck out looking

2nd AB: He flew out to center

3rd AB: He grounded out to the catcher

4th AB: He popped a bunt to the catcher

5th AB: He reached on an error

To some, Thunder Matt may be a distant memory, but to me his legend lives on.

Yet, could there be another?

Defending the Rays Bandwagon

Hobo. Wanderer. Nomad. Vagabond.

Call me what you will, but I just completed my tenth move this decade. Eight years, seven apartments, two friends’ spare bedrooms, and one summer sublease.

I’m the Mike Morgan of the rental community.

One of the best aspects of my new place is the location. I am now only 30 minutes from beautiful Tropicana Field, home of the greatest trash can racers ever home of the Tampa Bay Rays.

Which, in turn, leads me to my topic du jour: the impact of the Rays newfound success. Particularly the use of the term “bandwagon”.

According to a BaseballCrank.com article posted way back in 2001, there are two types of bandwagon fans,

One is the frontrunner – the fan who switches gleefully from team to team, always in search of associating himself with a winner. The other is the fan who just doesn’t pay as much attention when the team is losing.

Although I have not yet met any of the former (a.k.a. the "LeBron James" Rays fan), many baseball fans here in the Tampa area are being accused of being among the latter.

I wholeheartedly disagree.

Even though you can’t spit without hitting someone in a Rays hat or a Rays shirt or any other type of Rays apparel, this should not be considered a bad thing. After nearly 10 years of mismanagement and front office ineptitude, the new Rays organization is finally starting to win. And of course the community has noticed. They would be foolish not to.

(Side note: when are the Rays going to make an American Express commercial like the one in Major League? How great would it be to see Joe Maddon say "We're contenders now," followed by Carl Crawford sliding across home plate with an American Express card? That would be priceless - oops, wrong credit card.)

Question: if you bought a CD by a local band to support them but found it was poorly done and sounded like someone farting on a snare drum, would you automatically buy their second release?

I wouldn’t.

Now imagine after you bought the first release, the band released 10 horrible albums, each more inept than the previous. Any rational buyer would probably be hesitant to purchase album 11.

But what if album 11 had three top hits? What if it was on the top of the Billboard charts? What if nearly every song was on the radio and people couldn’t stop talking about it? What if the band had finally gotten their act together and found their sound? Could you blame people for giving them another shot?

Sure, some people will always spend their entertainment dollar on baseball. They are fans; that’s what they do. But the majority need to see a good product. People want something that will convince them their money is better spent at the ballpark than at the movies, or the beach, or the mall, or anywhere else. I have no hate for these people. I don’t blame them for finally showing up. Some day, when the Rays border on average again, the casual fans will leave. It happens. And I won't blame the fans then either.

However, that said, despite my defense of the Rays bandwagon, there is one type of Tampa-area fan that turns me into the bartender in Star Wars. One type of fan that makes me say, “We don’t serve your kind here. You’ll have to wait outside.”

Unless the Rays are playing the Yankees, absolutely positively no Red Sox fan should be allowed to root for the Rays. Even if they sacrifice life and limb.

That's where I draw the line.

Seeing the Cubs vs Rays in 2008

Apparently the Rays were on ESPN Wednesday night. To be honest, even though I've lived in Tampa for the last two years, I've never seen the Rays on ESPN. I even missed this broadcast. You know why?

I was there.

Being that the Cubs and Rays both are among the best teams in baseball this year, to say I couldn't wait for this series was an understatement. I was curious to see how the Cubs would draw in Tropicana Field. I was eager to see this Fukudome guy. And I couldn't wait to talk a little back-and-forth with some my favorite fellow sports bloggers.

So because it is pretty late, I am going with the Readers' Digest condensed point style (kinda sorta like Tiger Style, but not as fatal):

- Before the game the local sports bar was completely covered in Cubbie blue (more on the "Cubbie" thing later). Being that good beer knows no enemies, I chatted for a bit with a few fans. Like I said, I was eager to know who traveled and who was actually from Florida. One guy I talked to came all the way from Des Moines. He said most of the flights to Florida leaving the airport were packed with Cubs fans.

- I'll admit, the Trop isn't even close to Wrigley Field. But it is our home, for now anyway. To paraphrase the ancient philosoph Donnie Rumsfeld, "You play ball in the stadium you got, not the one you want approved in November".

- Looking at the lineup, why was Mark DeRosa in left field? When did he become a LF'er? I thought he was a second baseman? What about the great Thunder Matt, the Mighty Matt Murton?

- Sure enough, DeRosa's shaky outfield defense proved to be a liability early, allowing the Rays to score first.

- In the third, with the Rays pestering Carlos Zambrano with numerous singles, I swear I almost saw smoke coming out of Zambrano's ears. He was not happy. I think I will dub him "Mount Zambrano". Not only is he a big dude, but he looks like he is about to blow at any moment.

- The last two games I've gone to have both been Andy Sonnanstine starts. Although I thought I was jinxing him earlier this season, he is actually not pitching that bad of late with me in the house. His JSIA ERA (Jordi Scrubbings in attendance ERA) is definitely a lot lower than it was.

- In the 6th inning, down 5-3 (maybe 5-2, I'm too lazy to look it up), Lou Pinella finally came to his senses and put Matt Murton in for 84-year old Jim Edmonds. Needless to say, the Redheaded Messiah came through with a single.

- During the seventh inning stretch, I did something I have always wanted to do. I sang "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" with thousands of Cubs fans. Ever since I first saw Harry Caray on TV singing at Wrigley, I've always thought singing with Cubs fans would be fun. Of course, during the part where they say "root, root, root for the Cubbies", I yelled "root, root, root for the Rays". Because if the Rays don't win, it is actually a shame.

- Ok, on to the "Cubbies" matter. Cubs fans have a chant, "Let's go Cubbies". Not the quicker, more aggressive "Let's go Cubs", which might strike fear into the heart of opponents, but "Let's go Cubbies". Cubbies. Hardly intimidating. They sounded like they were cheering for a group of Saturday morning cartoon characters - The Cubbies.

- Before I end, I just want to say I really, really hope in that long list of super prospects the Rays have in the minors that there is a future closer somewhere. Troy Percival scares me.

- Oh, and Cubs fans are a bit weird. They haven't won it all since Teddy Roosevelt was in office, but they remain totally optimistic. Some were even talking about when, not if, they make the playoffs. Shouldn't they be bitter and pessimistic? More power to 'em, I guess.

- P.S. Not that I think he will ever read this, but to the Cubs fan who was talking smack and asking Rays fans "When was the last time the Rays made the playoffs?": keep in mind while the Rays have not made the playoffs in their 10-year existence, the Cubs went from 1945 to 1984 without making the postseason. That's 39 years, if my math is correct.

Rooting Against Florida

This weekend posed an interesting dilemma for me. Before I moved to Tampa, I didn’t care a wit about the Tampa Bay then-Devil Rays. Throughout all my travels and no matter where I've lived, the Mets have been my team. For those who have read this site for any amount of time know, I’ve discussed my feelings for Mets quite a bit.

Although I was and remain a die-hard Mets fan, the Marlins presented me my first internal fan conflict. Sometime after becoming a big league franchise in 1991, the first owners of the Florida Marlins decided to host their spring training in Melbourne, Fla., where I lived as a teenager. Needless to say, I went to see the Marlins and their minor league teams on a pretty regular basis. Being that the ballpark was 10 minutes away, I gathered my share of autographs, memorabilia, and memories. Even though I still loved my Mets, the Marlins were my hometown team. I even dared call myself a Marlins fan.

Knowing the Marlins and their history, I've often stood alongside true Marlins fans and defended the team through the years. I've countered arguments with people who disagreed with the team's trade-and-reload management style, those who thought the team should be relocated, and even those who believe the team should be contracted or somehow combined with the Tampa Bay franchise. And in what may be possibly my biggest display of Marlins fandom, I drove nearly eight hours from Tallahassee to Dolphins Stadium with my college roommate, an absolutely die-hard Marlins fan, to watch the Fish reveal their 2003 World Series banner on Opening Day 2004 (see pic).

But now, four years later, I’ve found myself pulling one of the cardinal sins of fandom. Last night, I went to the Rays-Marlins game and rooted wholeheartedly against the team from South Florida. They were the enemy, same as any other team visiting Tropicana Field. Like the thousand and thousands of other Tampa Bay Rays fans in attendance, I cheered the Rays and booed the Marlins. Then, to top it all off, I even sent a few obnoxious text messages to that same former college roommate, bragging about the Rays victory.

(Side note: In response to one of my barbs, my former roommate responded with the Patrick Roy-inspired “I can’t hear you with my two world series rings in my ear.” Say what you want about the Marlins and their fans, but they do have that going for them.)

So am I a sports flip-flopper? Am I an unloyal Marlins fan? Or can my brief dalliance with the Marlins be written off, as I have moved on and they no longer train in Melbourne? Although I don’t see my Marlins-Rays internal conflict comparing to my torn heart, I do think once again, I am one of the most internally confused fans I know.

It Sucks To Be a Florida Marlin

Before I begin, I have to admit the title of this post is strictly to get attention. Of course, the Marlins don't actually suck. But I couldn't resist any headline that even vaguely resembles the delightful tune of “It Sucks To Be a Florida Gator”.

That said, this weekend posed an interesting dilemma for me. Before I moved to Tampa, I didn’t care a wit about the Tampa Bay then-Devil Rays. Throughout all my travels and no matter where I've lived, the Mets have been my team. For those who have read this site for any amount of time know, I’ve discussed my feelings for Mets quite a bit.

Although I was and remain a die-hard Mets fan, the Marlins presented me my first internal fan conflict. Sometime after becoming a big league franchise in 1991, the first owners of the Florida Marlins decided to host their spring training in Melbourne, Fla., where I lived as a teenager. Needless to say, I went to see the Marlins and their minor league teams on a pretty regular basis. Being that the ballpark was 10 minutes away, I gathered my share of autographs, memorabilia, and memories. Even though I still loved my Mets, the Marlins were my hometown team. I even dared call myself a Marlins fan.

Knowing the Marlins and their history, I've often stood alongside true Marlins fans and defended the team through the years. I've countered arguments with people who disagreed with the team's trade-and-reload management style, those who thought the team should be relocated, and even those who believe the team should be contracted or somehow combined with the Tampa Bay franchise. And in what may be possibly my biggest display of Marlins fandom, I drove nearly eight hours from Tallahassee to Dolphins Stadium with my college roommate, an absolutely die-hard Marlins fan, to watch the Fish reveal their 2003 World Series banner on Opening Day 2004.

But now, four years later, I’ve found myself pulling one of the cardinal sins of fandom. Last night, I went to the Rays-Marlins game and rooted wholeheartedly against the team from South Florida. They were the enemy, same as any other team visiting Tropicana Field. Like the thousand and thousands of other Tampa Bay Rays fans in attendance, I cheered the Rays and booed the Marlins. Then, to top it all off, I even sent a few obnoxious text messages to that same former college roommate, bragging about the Rays victory.

(Side note: In response to one of my barbs, my former roommate responded with the Patrick Roy-inspired “I can’t hear you with my two world series rings in my ear.” Say what you want about the Marlins and their fans, but they do have that going for them.)

So am I a sports flip-flopper? Am I an unloyal Marlins fan? Or can my brief dalliance with the Marlins be written off, as I have moved on and they no longer train in Melbourne? Although I don’t see my Marlins-Rays internal conflict comparing to my torn heart, I do think once again, I am one of the most internally confused fans I know.

Confusion is tearing my heart apart

There was a time as a teen when I felt something similar to as I feel now. During my high school years, a certain local interest caught my eye. She was hot, young, and exciting. Back then, my affection for a distant lover was not as strong. Eventually, this sexy local interest lost what made her exciting and my heart overcame its dilemma.

Now, however, I don't know if I can be as strong.

Last year, hanging out with the local interest was a fun way to pass the time. I had no problem differentiating between the object of my desire and a friendly associate. I was head-over-heels in love with my long-distance love; anyone else was just a friend.

How things have changed.

My long-distance love has let her life go to hell. I feel bad saying this, and maybe I am too hard on her, but it's true. Since last summer, since we laughed and loved and talked about our October plans, she had become lazy, listless, and completely uninterested in being the best she can be. As I have mentioned before, watching her digression has become maddeningly frustrating.

Meanwhile, the local interest has become the talk of the town. After pulling herself out of the basement, nee the gutter, she has totally reinvented herself with new found confidence. She has gone from not-so-super to supermodel.

Although I used to talk openly about our friendship, her recent success has me curious about how life would be if we were exclusive. I even find myself slightly jealous whenever anyone talks about her lovingly. In a way, I guess I feel as if I found her first. But I know as long as my heart lies elsewhere and I stay committed to a struggling relationship, being jealous of my local interest's new fame is not fair to her, me, or my long-distance lover.

This is the most confused I have ever been. If only love was easy.

From the Bigs to the Buses

(This post originally appeared on Bus Leagues Baseball.com)

From the rural sandlots to the city stadiums, the basic premise of baseball – three strikes, three outs, nine innings, etc – remains constant. Sure, the talent level rises with every step to the majors, but does an increase in whiz-bang glitz and glamour make for a more entertaining game? Is happiness and emotional attachment at the ballpark directly related to cost and hype? Or have I been reading too much Freakonomics?

These questions are a result of seeing two games of various levels this past weekend. Last Friday night, I used one of my season tickets and saw James Shields of the Tampa Bay Rays one-hit the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. The next night, I traveled to Viera, nee Melbourne, Florida, received a free ticket and watched the Class-A Florida State League Brevard County Manatees take on the Tampa Yankees.

As anyone who has followed my past writings knows, I am a closet Rays fan. Although I grew up a Mets fan, since moving to Tampa two years ago, I’ve had an interest in the Rays, especially in regards to the team’s transformation from doormat to dominant. So as an admirer, and not yet a full-blown fan, I was on my feet applauding what may have been the best pitching performance in franchise history.

Unlike my newfound fascination with the Rays, the Brevard County Manatees have been my favorite minor league team since their inception in 1994. Formerly a Marlins’ farm team, the Manatees are now the A-ball representative of the Milwaukee Brewers. Personally, I still wear the teal Manatees hat. I think it looks better than the newer red and blue version.

My two weekend destinations, independent of the score, couldn’t have been more different. A trip to the Trop is almost like a journey to the amusement park. Despite its reputation as a bad place for baseball, the Rays ownership has turned Tropicana Field into a fan friendly experience, with batting cages, speed gun contests, and plenty of other bells, whistles, gizmos, and doo-dads. The coup de grace of this new Trop is the new large video score board installed before the 2007 season. Every stat the above-average fan needs is broadcast, from OPS to pitch count, WHIP to walks per nine innings.

Even the fans at Tropicana Field have their own vibe. Whereas a growing number are starting to pepper the stands with Upton and Shields jerseys, many still wear generic merchandise mixed with attention-getting flare such as clown wigs and boxing robes. Topping off this group of new fans was an American Idol contestant in town to sing the National Anthem.

A Manatees game at Space Coast Stadium, on the other hand, is a far different experience. Instead of a celebrity singing for America, for example, the Manatees had two anonymous local crooners. Instead of a promotional foul line race between characters dressed as Pepsi, Aquafina, and Sierra Mist, the Manatees featured two local little league coaches dressed in generic ketchup and mustard bottles. Instead of amplified stereo noise, blinking lights, and new-age scoreboard, Space Coast Stadium relied on an old fashioned public address system and a video screen fit for an Sega Genesis.

So was the Rays’ game I paid for that much better than the low-budget Class-A Manatees contest I saw for free? Well, in this case, yes. But only because of the magnificent pitching artistry of James Shields. If not for the great Mr. Shields, it might have been a toss-up.

One small pitch for baseball, one giant event for Commodore alumni

Saturday was a glorious day in the history of my high school alma mater. Yesterday, for the first time ever, former Eau Gallie Commodore Class of 1984 Tim Wakefield faced former Eau Gallie Commodore Class of 2002 Prince Fielder. Since only one other baseball player from my high school has ever made the big leagues, former reliever Jeff Tam, this is kinda a big deal.

Unfortunately, due to the Brewers league shift back in '98, the Brewers don't play Boston regularly. So I, and all the possibly dozens and dozens of EGHS fans that care about stuff like this, have had to wait nearly three years into young Prince's career for a highly anticipated match-up against Wakefield.

So what did these Commodore legends do against each other?

In the top of the second, Fielder grounded to short.

In the top of the fourth, Fielder doubled to deep right.

In the top of the sixth, Fielder flied out to center.

So overall, Fielder went 1 for 3 with a double against his Commodore predecesor. As the Brewers won't face the Red Sox again until 2011 and Wakefield is already 49 years old (give or take a few years), this might be the only big league match-up of the two Eau Gallie High players and maybe the last one of its kind for a while.

Until the next Commodore makes the majors.

From the Bigs to the Buses

(This post originally appeared on Bus Leagues Baseball.com)

From the rural sandlots to the city stadiums, the basic premise of baseball – three strikes, three outs, nine innings, etc – remains constant. Sure, the talent level rises with every step to the majors, but does an increase in whiz-bang glitz and glamour make for a more entertaining game? Is happiness and emotional attachment at the ballpark directly related to cost and hype? Or have I been reading too much Freakonomics?

These questions are a result of seeing two games of various levels this past weekend. Last Friday night, I used one of my season tickets and saw James Shields of the Tampa Bay Rays one-hit the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. The next night, I traveled to Viera, nee Melbourne, Florida, received a free ticket and watched the Class-A Florida State League Brevard County Manatees take on the Tampa Yankees.

As anyone who has followed my past writings knows, I am a closet Rays fan. Although I grew up a Mets fan, since moving to Tampa two years ago, I’ve had an interest in the Rays, especially in regards to the team’s transformation from doormat to dominant. So as an admirer, and not yet a full-blown fan, I was on my feet applauding what may have been the best pitching performance in franchise history.

Unlike my newfound fascination with the Rays, the Brevard County Manatees have been my favorite minor league team since their inception in 1994. Formerly a Marlins’ farm team, the Manatees are now the A-ball representative of the Milwaukee Brewers. Personally, I still wear the teal Manatees hat. I think it looks better than the newer red and blue version.

My two weekend destinations, independent of the score, couldn’t have been more different. A trip to the Trop is almost like a journey to the amusement park. Despite its reputation as a bad place for baseball, the Rays ownership has turned Tropicana Field into a fan friendly experience, with batting cages, speed gun contests, and plenty of other bells, whistles, gizmos, and doo-dads. The coup de grace of this new Trop is the new large video score board installed before the 2007 season. Every stat the above-average fan needs is broadcast, from OPS to pitch count, WHIP to walks per nine innings.

Even the fans at Tropicana Field have their own vibe. Whereas a growing number are starting to pepper the stands with Upton and Shields jerseys, many still wear generic merchandise mixed with attention-getting flare such as clown wigs and boxing robes. Topping off this group of new fans was an American Idol contestant in town to sing the National Anthem.

A Manatees game at Space Coast Stadium, on the other hand, is a far different experience. Instead of a celebrity singing for America, for example, the Manatees had two anonymous local crooners. Instead of a promotional foul line race between characters dressed as Pepsi, Aquafina, and Sierra Mist, the Manatees featured two local little league coaches dressed in generic ketchup and mustard bottles. Instead of amplified stereo noise, blinking lights, and new-age scoreboard, Space Coast Stadium relied on an old fashioned public address system and a video screen fit for an Sega Genesis.

So was the Rays’ game I paid for that much better than the low-budget Class-A Manatees contest I saw for free? Well, in this case, yes. But only because of the magnificent pitching artistry of James Shields. If not for the great Mr. Shields, it might have been a toss-up.

Cursing Andy Sonnanstine

I am still catching up with some of the weekend happenings, so this is a little late, but I couldn't resist some deep baseball statistical analysis.

Rays pitcher Andy Sonnanstine has pitched four games this year. He is 2-1 with a 5.55 ERA. He has given up 25 hits in 24.1 innings pitched, walked only four, and opponents are hitting .263 against him.

In his four starts, Sonnanstine won his first and his most recent. Three of these starts have been at Tropicana Field. At home, Sonnanstine has a 5.40 ERA, allowing 11 runs in 18.1 innings. Despite early struggles, in his most recent start, Sonnanstine threw a complete game three-hit shutout against the White Sox.

So what was different between his latest home start and his earlier home outings? Did something magically click?

I don't think so.

You want my theory?

I've been two games at Tropicana Field this year. Both were started by Andy Sonnanstine and were Rays losses. In the two games I've attended, Sonnanstine has allowed 16 hits, 4 home runs, and 11 earned runs in 12.1 innings.

In the game I didn't go to, Sonnanstine threw a complete game shutout.

Even more coincidental, I had tickets to Sonnanstine's latest start but gave them away before I went out of town for the weekend.

I know it's a small sample set, but thus far, Sonnanstine has an 8.18 JSiA ERA (Jordi Scrubbings in Attendance Earned Run Average). His JSiA OBA (Jordi Scrubbings in Attendance Opponents' Batting Average) is .340. His non-JSiA ERA is 2.40 and opponents' are only hitting .173 in non-JSiA situations.

Unfortunately, I think we are into pattern status. I give myself one more Sonnanstine start at the Trop before I admit I am officially Andy Sonnanstine's personal jinx.